Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series belongs to JK Rowling.
Chapter One
I walked down the shelves of books carefully, looking for the book I desired. I smiled as I finally spotted the slightly frayed, red binding of A Secondary Guide to Wizarding Law. It was on one of the higher shelves, tucked neatly behind quite a few other volumes. I drew my wand from the right pocket of my robes and quickly whispered accio, successfully bringing the book into my outstretched hand. However, the book felt heavier than it had the last time I checked it out and the front cover didn't close quite right. I opened the cover and raised an eyebrow in curiosity. There was a smaller black book neatly tucked in before the title page. As I saw my cousin and houses' female seventh year prefect, Gemma Farley, coming over, I quickly stowed the misplaced book into my pocket.
"Good afternoon, Josephine; law again?" she questioned with a smile.
"Yes; I know I should be studying for my OWLs, but I just can't bring myself to," I answered sheepishly.
Gemma smiled knowingly. "Make sure to study, but try not to completely exhaust yourself. I'm sure you'll make both our family and Slytherin house proud." She patted me on the back then walked over to a table of her friends.
I let out a sigh. There was always a sort of tension talking to my cousin— her success was just intimidating. Not only was she top of class and a prefect, but she was dating a pureblood boy with a well-known heritage and everyone knew a wedding was soon coming; my aunt and uncle were so proud. I, on the other hand, was merely a prefect with big dreams. I'd wanted a spot on the Wizengamot, the highest court in magical Britain, ever since I was about five, and there was absolutely nothing I wanted more. Of course, not to say I was extremely confident in my pursuit of that goal, but that was why I was in Slytherin. I certainly had enough ambition and cunning, but I lacked any essence of bravery. I preferred to achieve my goals behind the public eye where my family, my beliefs, and my means wouldn't be judged.
"Are you going to check out that book or not?" I practically threw my book at Madam Pince as she held her hand out for the book, completely bringing me out of my daze. "I want it back in a week," she ordered sharply, her beady eyes looking over the book as though I was going to borrow her first born child for the next seven days.
I held the book to my chest protectively as soon as she finally gave it back, gathered my bag, and sped out of the library with as much haste as possible. Ever since I had kept a book one day late in second year, Pince had been out to get me, and I made a point to avoid her at all costs. I slowed down as I made my way to the dungeons, feeling at home already. The familiar paintings began to greet me, and I made sure to say hello to Ruthel, the portrait of beautiful witch who wore an elaborate medieval hat—she had helped me find the common room many times in first year.
"Salazar," I murmured as I faced the entrance to the common room (a blank wall) just wanting to get to my room and investigate the black book. However, I knew that course of action would be completely stalled as I saw Pansy coming over. I didn't especially dislike students younger than myself, but I found Miss Parkinson to have no redeemable qualities what so ever.
"Josey!" I cringed as her obnoxious voice screeched. I tried to ignore her small frame—she stood at about a bit below my shoulders, seeing as I was always tall for my age. However, she still managed to bar my way.
"It's so horrible! Draco just told me to go away; I know he was probably just kidding (I mean who wouldn't want me around), but still it was so rude!" she whined. I just rolled my eyes and began to walk over to Malfoy and his cronies, gesturing for Parkinson to follow.
"Malfoy?" I addressed as he lounged across a sofa like he owned the common room—of course, his family was quite wealthy, so I suppose that was possible.
"Yes, Farley?" he asked innocently. I could feel his eyes staring very carefully at my prefect badge.
"Please include Parkinson. I have homework to do and certainly not the time for this. Don't make me tell you again." I walked away and began down the corridor that led to the girls' dormitories, looking back every now and then to make sure I didn't see Parkinson following me. Thankfully, she wasn't. I opened the third to last door and walked in to the room. Somehow, I had managed to come in at a time when my three other roommates weren't there.
I took a seat at the small desk near my green four-poster bed and carefully took the mysterious book out of my pocket. As I examined it, I really couldn't believe my luck. I had somehow come across the diary of the rather famous head boy and Slytherin—Tom Marvolo Riddle. I had often done prefect patrol in the trophy room where his name was posted almost everywhere— three times prefect, head boy, a potions award, and an award earned for service to the school in his fifth year. To be honest, the reason why I'd began to look into him was because of his name; Riddle was not a name indicative of pure lineage, that I was aware of, anyway, and, when one was in Slytherin, only those in possession of the names of oldest heritage usually succeeded during their school years. It was odd to say the least.
Now that the Chamber of Secrets had been reopened, as of late, I'd been wondering even more about the strange boy who had somehow exposed a Gryffindor for being the heir of Slytherin. The case was so well documented I wondered as to why no one except myself seemed to see flaws in the story. It seemed blatantly obvious that Wizarding society and Headmaster Dippet were struck for a monster and a culprit and Mr. Riddle had easily provided them. Perhaps, Riddle's diary would tell me all I needed to know and the knowledge to unearth the real story.
My heart sank as I found only blank pages in the diary. I should have known better than to get my hopes up. I decided that perhaps I would use the book as a way to record information about the Chamber of Secrets and its opening. Maybe, it would give me inspiration.
"Facts Known About the Attacks," I wrote down in a neat line at the top of the page. I skipped two spaces before beginning. "It must be someone from Slytherin who has at least one parent with lineage long enough to go back to the founders. The monster must be able to both petrify and kill— therefore, acromantula theory easily discredited. Tom Riddle's importance?" I paused to look up from the page and rested my hand under my chin to think. What else did I know? I saw something out of the corner of my eye and almost fell out of my chair. My writing was gone, and words began showing up of seemly their own accord.
"Hello; I hate to disturb you, but who are you and how did you come into possession of my diary?" asked the mysterious pristine handwriting.
"I'm Josephine Farley, and I came across this diary in the library hidden in another book. I take it you're Tom Riddle?" I wrote back nervously, wondering what strange charm could imprison someone in a book.
"Yes, I am. That was an interesting passage you were writing there; however, I assure you Hagrid was indeed the culprit," wrote Tom almost immediately after my words had faded away.
"I think you were mistaken in your judgment. Acromantulas cannot petrify. While I admit, it is plausible that the heir of Slytherin could end up in Gryffindor, the girl's death certainly made no sense. Myrtle herself makes it a point to tell all that Miss Hornby did not find her body until hours after her death. The acromantula would have had plenty of time to properly consume the body's fluids and would have covered it in thread for easier consumption. Myrtle's body was uninjured, besides her being dead, obviously, when she was found," I replied critically.
"You said your name was Farley?" asked Tom after a moment's pause. I took note of how he avoided the previous topic.
"Yes."
"Granddaughter of Gregor Farley?"
"Quite."
"I knew him at school. Is your family still primarily in Slytherin house?"
"Primarily? More like only. I'm a fifth year Slytherin, and my cousin Gemma is in seventh year," I wrote back quickly, almost snorting at the silliness of the question. My family had been in Slytherin for centuries.
"I was in my seventh year, last I recall; I was head boy and in Slytherin as well," Riddle answered. I could almost feel his pride.
"Yes, I'm aware. I'm a prefect and often patrol the trophy rooms. I discovered your name quite a few times; I must admit I did a bit of research."
"I feel honored. Is there anything you would like to know?"
"Well, really only one thing. What exactly did you plan to do after Hogwarts? Usually those who have such successful years at Hogwarts are able to gain prominent positions in the Ministry. However, your name is very elusive."
"I'm not entirely sure as to why that is; what is your goal after Hogwarts, Miss Farley?"
"You certainly aren't one for answering questions. I'm going to be on the Wizengamot," I wrote back quickly. Tom Riddle was certainly catching my interest.
"Going? Your position is assured?"
"Not yet, but I refuse any other result. Before my grandfather made a fool of himself and threw his life away on drink and a disgustingly needy wife, the Farley's almost always had a member on the Wizengamot. I'm merely fulfilling the role my grandfather and father failed to uphold."
"Don't you think that's a bit unfair?"
"Of course not; there is a duty that comes with being pureblood, and that includes upholding tradition."
"Please excuse me for saying, but you remind me a very good deal of your grandfather. He had similar aspirations and ideals."
"That only makes the blow harsher. He had a future and threw it away; so many have less than desirable backgrounds and have to work to achieve respect. He was the first son of a prominent family—the odds were utterly in his favor."
"This is in contrast to you?"
"Not completely, but I have had to work far harder. I'm the fourth daughter with little expected for her future, except perhaps finding a good husband, and they gave up on that long ago. While my parents were settling marriage contracts for my second oldest sister, Eloisa, I was beginning to read about law. I lived in my home's library. I've been studying every book of law I could get my hands on since eight."
"I easily understand how you are in Slytherin, Miss Farley. You are quite ambitious. However, I hope not to offend you, but some would say your goal is rather safe."
"I think not because a spot on the Wizengamot is all the power I will ever wish. I know if I had anymore, I would most certainly abuse it. Power is a dangerous thing for those who know not where their limits are."
"You are wise as well; you could have easily been in Ravenclaw as well from my observations."
"The sorting hat did have a time deciding, but it soon said that my thirst for knowledge was often limited and clouded by my ambition. I will not deny that he was correct. Did the sorting hat have any trouble in your sorting?"
"Not in the least. However, I too enjoy the pursuit of knowledge. So tell me, what is Hogwarts like these days?"
"Not much to speak of. The Chamber of Secrets has once again been opened, and it seems the school will have to be closed. My parents have already contacted Beauxbatons for an available spot. However, personally, I'd rather not take all my classes in French, especially since I'm not exactly fluent. I just don't understand why they can't send our muggleborns to another school. It'd save almost everyone trouble. This school is the oldest one in the world; to throw away that history would be giving up part of the Wizarding identity. But will they ever even consider that? Never. That's why I need to solve the mystery this time." I stared at the page, infuriated but empowered as well; I hadn't been able to speak, well write, my thoughts to anyone like that before. My parents were certainly out of the question, and my roommates were as well. Lydia Crossage, Demetria Nott, and Allegra Zabini were not known for being girls one wanted to confide their secrets, or anything else to. I felt such freedom.
"Isn't that idea bordering on isolating muggleborns?"
"Of course, but I don't exactly see any problem. It's not their identity everyone should be worrying about. They don't have families who've been going to Hogwarts for centuries."
"No, definitely not. You're a very intriguing individual, Miss Farley."
"You needn't be so formal. Josephine will certainly suffice. I hate to intrude, but would you mind terribly if I asked what Hogwarts was like in your years? Not to say I dwell in the past, but I must admit I would have much rather lived in your time."
"I suppose it wasn't terribly different than it is now. However, I must admit women's role in society was lacking; for some reason, it seems to have taken our world far too long to realize that witches have discovered and done great things. May I ask as to why you desire to live in my time?"
"I like the culture I suppose. I know that's rather generalized, but I admire that people actually spoke the English language with accuracy and care. Not to mention— Tom, I have to go. One of my roommates is approaching. Would you mind terribly if we continued this tomorrow?"
"Not at all. Goodnight, Josephine."
"Goodnight."
I quickly stowed the diary into one my desk drawers and grabbed my potions book in order to feign reading it as Lydia came in. I gave her a small glance of acknowledgement as she walked over to her bed; she was, by far, the most tolerable of the females I'd had to spend the majority of the last five years with.
"Farley?" she asked, cautiously, in the fashion it seemed everyone in my year spoke to me now. We'd have dueling lessons earlier in the year, and I might have been a bit excessive in disarming in seventh year, Marcus Flint. In my defense, I'd had a horrible day, no one had wanted to partner with me, and Marcus Flint was about as brilliant as a piece of flint. Somehow, Flint still knew dark spells he certainly shouldn't have known, and I was stuck trying to defend myself against the volatile curses and not hurt him too badly—he only ended up with a broken nose, which I thought was rather charitable of myself.
Anyway, I realized I was probably only frightening Lydia more with my blank stare and decided I better answer. "Yes, Lydia?"
"Would it be too much to ask you to perhaps turn out your light? I'm sorry, but I have meeting with Professor McGonagall and I really need my rest," she asked, her voice much higher than it sounded when talking to friends.
"Fine," I murmured before blowing out my candle and going to bed. I sighed to myself. It had always been this way, and I was a fool for thinking that the dueling club was to blame. I never had any clue why, but my peers were always intimidated by me. Perhaps it was because I always spoke with clarity since my first day of classes, I had already practiced magic on my family's estate before school started, or because I rarely did anything but study and sleep. I had originally thought it was because of my name, but my cousin never got such treatment nor did my sisters.
As I lay in bed, I realized I felt rather bad for lying to the diary—even if I didn't know for sure if it was the real person. It hadn't been too much, just enough for self-preservation. I had only lied about the sorting because I hadn't ever told anyone what the sorting hat had said to me, and I never wished to. While it had problems deciding between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, the deciding factor was that it had said I was "destined for great things"—things I could only achieve in Slytherin. While I was slightly elated at finally having something coming my way instead of my sisters' or cousin's, I knew it was nothing to brag about. The "great things" one needed to be in Slytherin to achieve were not things one went about mentioning in casual conversation, or any conversation for that matter.
And the reasons I would have liked to go to Hogwarts in the 40s were simply a matter of opinion that I knew was best to not mention to a near-stranger who I assumed was a half-blood. I certainly was not obsessed with pureblood supremacy, but I had to admit it seemed more like the natural order of things than anything else that purebloods ran society. I wanted to go to the fabled Malfoy Christmas Balls, attend society outings, and get some of the respect I so badly yearned for. All I had at Hogwarts was fear, and it was easy for me to tell the difference. I frowned slightly and closed my eyes against my pillow.
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter, and I'll update soon. Please review if you enjoyed it, and I'm always open to constructive criticism. Thanks!
